Inari's Star
by KyoHana
Summary: the legendary spirit fox isn't the only one ot have cheated death by escaping to the human world. Several years before, another accomplished the feat...someone dear to Kurama...someone he's about to meet again. Takes place about 8 years after the series
1. Remembrance

**Inari's Star**

**By Bobbi Meislohn**

**_(Standard disclaimer: I don't own YYH or its characters; they are the sole property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shonen Jump Comics Weekly, Studio Pierrot and Fuji Television)_**

**AN: Italic type indicates dream or flashback sequence.**

**This fic takes place about eight years after the end of the series. Kurama is now 25 years old; finished with college and now working an an architect. Slight shonen ai (no lemons; I'm not brave enough yet to attempt one) as Kurama and Hiei are mates in this story.**

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Chapter 1 -- Remembrance 

"_I thought I'd find you here." The small, quiet voice shattered the stillness of the Makai night, but not that of the figure he addressed. The figure, a young kitsune female of nine, was seated, back propped against a pine tree, one knee drawn up and hands clasped tightly around it. Her head was up, golden eyes staring off into the distance, which was unusual. Normally, those eyes would have been fixed on the night sky; now they looked at nothing._

_The kit tried again. "Ane?" He knelt beside her. From beneath shaggy bangs of spun silver, eyes, identical in color to the girl's, looked at her. Those eyes held sadness and a wisdom they should not have known. They were eyes far too old for someone of his tender years._

"_Is Tousan asleep?" his sister asked, without moving._

"_Passed out, don't you mean?" The youngster snorted derisively._

"_You should be sleeping as well, little one," she replied, ignoring his comment._

_Finally, she turned her head to look at him, one corner of her mouth lifting in a small smile that was hers alone. He loved her smile and yet, looking at her, Kurama's heart ached for the sorrow that lay behind it and the shadows he saw in the eyes that gazed back at him. Lifting a tiny hand, he reached out, gently tucking a lock of silver hair behind her ear._

"_Did he hurt you?" he asked, his eyes shifting from her face to her throat, noting the deep purple bruises that dotted the pale flesh like some obscene necklace. Why…why couldn't the bastard leave her alone?_

"_No." She shook her head. Seeing the sadness in her brother's eyes, she reached out, gently caressing the side of his small face. Kurama leaned into it, placing his hand over hers and flattening the palm against his cheek. Again, the corner of her mouth lifted in a smile. "You worry too much, kyodai," she gently admonished him. _

"_Why?" he asked softly, and though she knew what it was he was really asking, she didn't know how to answer him. In truth, she wasn't sure she even had one. _

_It had started so long ago, shortly after their mother left, never to return; Kurama not quite two years' old. It had been the night of the full moon, and he'd returned to their den, to his sleeping children, drunk. She'd remembered the smell of liquor on his breath as he'd entered the sleeping quarters she shared with her brother, the tiny kit curled up in one corner, sleeping soundly; remembered his hand coming down on her mouth, stifling her cries. Then, too, she remembered his body as it came down on top of hers, his free hand tearing the thin nightdress from her; remembered the almost lazy way he'd reached out his finger, one long, sharp nail tracing a figure onto her naked flesh; remembered the burning of that flesh when she'd tried to summon her ki; and finally, the searing pain and the gush of blood as he penetrated her, taking his pleasure from her pain._

_In the years that followed, it had become a matter of routine, though not with any regularity. He'd disappear for two or three weeks, sometimes even a month, then return, flushed with victory from some battle and still high on the fever that engulfed him during those times or, more often than not these days, simply drunk. And she'd accepted it; taken the incestuous abuse as a matter of course, hoping that in doing so, she could keep Kurama safe from him – vowing to let him continue having his way, but only until she and Kurama were older, until **she** was old enough to protect her brother and then she'd take him away from this hell, vanishing forever as their mother had done._

_Just one more year, she thought, swallowing a sigh. She'd be well into her tenth year by then and able to control completely her power to manipulate the plant life around them. As well, her empathic abilities would be fully developed by that time, and she'd be able, not only to protect the little kit, but provide for both of them as well._

_But Kurama was looking at her now; his beautiful amber eyes demanding an answer… an answer she couldn't give him. Instead, she smiled, opening her arms._

"_Want to watch the stars with me, otouto?" she asked, reaching up and pulling him onto her lap._

_He knew perfectly well what she was doing, but he obliged just the same, leaning back against her, his head pillowed on her chest as she wrapped her arms around him, resting her chin on the top of his head. He smelled her scent – the sweet smell of honeysuckle and lilac, and the dusky, warm smell of the earth – and he closed his eyes, savoring her smell and the warmth of her arms as she held him._

"_All right," she said, breaking into his reverie, "let's see what you remember…"_

"_What's that one?" she asked, pointing to a constellation overhead._

"_Orion," he answered._

"_And that?"_

"_Cassiopeia." _

_It was a learning process, providing the young kit with another means for determining direction, aside from recognizing the forests and woods. Yet, it was a game for them as well. She knew his favorite constellation was that of the dragon, Dracos, and she'd save it for last, seeing how long he could last before his impatience got the better of him and he squirmed in her arms._

"_Very good," she said. "Now, let me see…" She paused a moment, searching the heavens, then asked, "what about that one, there?"_

_He played along, tiny golden eyes scrunched up as if in deep thought as he followed her finger. "Ummmm... Ursa Major."_

_On they played, Kurama's impatience growing with each succeeding question. Finally, she took pity on the poor kit._

"_And **that** one?"_

"_Dracos," he answered with a wide grin, satisfied at last._

"_Well done, little one… as always." She hugged him and he wriggled around on her lap until he was facing her, his little face serious._

"_Wildflower," he asked, "why do you like the stars so much?"_

"_Did you know, I was just about your age when I started watching them?" she replied to his question with one of her own, leaning down to touch her forehead to his. She nuzzled his nose then pulled back to study his small, heart-shaped face. "I suppose I started watching them because they reminded me so much of fire gems strewn across a field of black velvet… they were so bright, so beautiful, so… magnificent. And as I watched them, I grew to love that very beauty and magnificence; so much so that I even asked Inari for one of my very own."_

"_You did?"_

"_Hai," she nodded. "And not just **any** one. No," she shook her head, smiling at the memory. "It had to be the brightest, most beautiful gem in the whole of that jeweled sky."_

"_Every night for almost a year it was the same," she continued, "I'd look up at the night sky and send my prayer to Inari." She giggled softly. "I think I must have worn him out with all those prayers, because one night, at last, he saw fit to grant my wish."_

"_Inari-sama gave you a… star?"_

_She nodded. "The very one I'd asked for, too… the brightest, most beautiful star in all the heavens."_

_Kurama frowned, his small brow furrowed in thought. "But how come I've never… hey!… how come you've never shown it to me?"_

"_But you've seen it," she explained, "many times. In fact, it's here with us right now."_

"_Where?" He looked around._

"_In my arms," she replied softly._

_He looked at her, eyes going wide in surprised realization. She was talking about him. HE was her star. She smiled again, leaning in to nuzzle his pug nose once more._

"_Come now, my Shining Star," she said gathering him into her arms and rising to her feet. She smiled down at him as he tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn then gave up, burying his head against her shoulder. "It's past your bedtime."_


	2. Revelation and Remorse

**_(See Chapter 1 for the actual disclaimer. Standard disclaimer here: Sadly, I own neither YYH or its characters; they are the sole property of Togashi-san. The only thing I own is the plot and OCs of this convuluted piece of drivel... and oh yeah: a Kurama and Hiei plushie and keyrings, some manga, and the series DVDs.)_**

**AN: _Italic type indicates a flashback sequence._**

**I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update and hope the you don't think I'd abandoned it, because I won't! This chapter is my first attempt at writing from a character's (other than one I've created) POV; so I hope that I got it right. I have to say, I am pleased with the way this chapter turned out, and I hope that you will be as well.**

**As Blackrose Kitsune is fond of saying, leave a review at the door. It would be much appreciated.**

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Chapter 2 – Revelation and Remorse

_**Kurama's POV**_

"Kasumi…" Her name is no more than a breath upon my lips as I open my eyes; the dream fading into the mists of sleep now ended – the same mist for which she had been named.

Fully awake now, and careful not to wake the slumbering figure beside me, I sit up. Leaning back against the headboard, I draw my knees to my chest, clasping my arms around them and resting my chin on top.

It has been nearly 30 years since I locked away all memory of my sister, burying them as I had buried her mutilated corpse. And yet, for the past few days, my dreams have been inexplicably haunted by those self-same memories. 'Why now', I wonder, and having no answer, sigh softly, ever mindful of the small demon still wrapped within the cocoon of sleep beside me.

I look over at him – my mate; he who is the other half of my soul – and am startled to find half-lidded ruby eyes regarding me thoughtfully.

"Good morning, Hiei," I whisper with a small smile.

"Hn," is his only response as he sits up. He shifts so that he is facing me, sitting up on his knees; crimson orbs, now fully opened, still observing me with that same pensive expression. I, in turn, shift my eyes downward, suddenly quite interested in the red silk that covers my knees. Hiei leans forward, a small, sword-calloused hand gently cupping my chin; raising my eyes to meet his.

"Another dream." It isn't a question, yet I nod as though he'd asked.

"I don't understand," I tell him, my eyes meeting his; the image of his beautiful face shimmering in the tears that fill my eyes. Hastily I duck my head, blinking them away. I shed no tears all those years ago, and I adamantly refuse to let them fall now. I deserve neither the luxury of grief nor the solace those tears would afford me; for although another may have been the instrument of my sister's death, I was its cause… the blame mine, and mine alone.

Looking up, I gaze again into the crimson eyes of my love. "Why, Hiei?" I murmur, "why?"

He reaches out; tiny hand softly caressing my cheek. "I cannot answer that, Kurama," he replies with a shake of his raven-haired head. "You have never spoken of her to me; other than to tell me you once had a sibling. I know not who she was or why you refuse to speak of her – even to me." He is silent for a moment, choosing his next words with great care. "Perhaps," he finishes, eyes never leaving mine, "it is time you did."

Now it is my turn to be silent… my turn to study him. It does not take me long to come to my decision; the merest span of a few moments only.

"Her name was Kasumi," I begin, "though I never called her anything other than 'Wildflower'." I smile briefly at the memory. "For that was what she was… **_my_** wildflower."

Although the story is begun somewhat hesitantly, the tale unfolds rapidly; my initial reluctance to speak of her – to renew the pain I'd successfully (or so I thought) buried within myself so long ago – having passed, and my words flow easily as I tell Hiei of my sister and our life together. It is only when I come to the final chapter of that life that I begin to falter, and yet, glancing at him, I know that he understands; that knowledge reinforced by the hands that reach out to clasp mine, silently offering me his strength with his love. Taking a deep breath, my eyes locked upon the warm vermilion ones of my love, I begin…..

:**_Flashback_**:

_The day had dawned clear and bright; one of those only rarely seen in the Makai. The sun, high in a sky of crystalline blue, was a brilliant lemon yellow; the air, perfumed with the scent of new spring growth, was warm as Youko Kurama made his way along the forest path. His pace quickened as the hours passed; each step bringing him closer to his destination – a small tree-house nestled in a glade hidden deep within the wood he now walked. _

_More than a year had gone by since he'd last visited; far too long a time without seeing her. And yet, he had to remain cautious. With his reputation, he could not risk endangering her by visiting more often. No one knew of their relationship. In all his long years of thievery, he'd been extremely careful in that regard. She was his most cherished treasure and for her safety, Youko Kurama's sister was also his most closely guarded secret._

_Continuing along the path, Kurama soon came to the edge of the glade. He frowned slightly as he stepped into the clearing. It was quiet, but that was not what bothered him as it was always quiet here – 'peaceful', he reflected, the word coming unbidden to his mind. The problem was, he'd normally sense his sister's aura long before he stepped into the glade, yet this time it was noticeably absent. Chiding himself for his foolishness – she was, after all, a healer and had probably just been called away to exercise her skills – he continued on; but suddenly halted, all his senses on alert as the sharply metallic scent of blood reached him._

_Raising his head, Kurama sniffed the air, his earlier apprehension turning to outright fear as _

_his sensitive nose confirmed the blood was new – no more than an hour old, if that, **and** it was coming from the house. The fox demon remained rooted in place for no more than a hairsbreadth before he took off running toward the house, screaming her name, "KASUMI!" as he ran; his mind begging for her to answer his desperate call, yet a part of him already knowing she would not._

_The tree-house stood as it always had – stalwart, unyielding to the ravages of time. It was, in actuality, a massive Makai willow that had been torn asunder; cleaved in two by lightening eons ago. Half of it had come to rest on the floor of the glade and long since petrified; the other half still stood tall and proud, its gracefully arcing branches, heavy with their green, leafy tendrils, providing not only natural shade for the house on warmer days, but perfect concealment from potential enemies as well._

_He'd found it as he'd hunted for food for them – both of them then in their teens, though Kurama just barely so. Kasumi had been enchanted when he'd brought her to the glade and shown her the tree. They'd decided to claim the clearing as their own and built a small, but sturdy house on the lower half. His sister loved this place and the home they'd built together. She had remained long after Kurama had left to start a life of his own – a life as the legendary Youko Kurama, King of Thieves._

_Kurama wasted no time as he got to the house. Racing up the lower trunk upon which the house had been built, he paused only for the moment it took to reach his hand out and wrap slender fingers around the small iron ring set within the door. Chest heaving and breath coming in smothered gasps, he slowly pulled the ring up; the smell of blood overwhelming as he pushed the door open and stepped into the room._

_Late afternoon sunlight filtered in through the small mullioned windows, diffused by the willow's new green strands. Sharp, amber eyes adjusted quickly to this soft light as Kurama carefully scanned the room. Silver-furred ears flicked slowly back and forth as he walked farther into the room, trying to isolate any unnatural sounds not only within the place where he now stood but the rest of the house as well._

_The living area itself was not large; the dominant feature, the low mahogany table in the very center of the room. Scattered around the table, and throughout the room itself, were large pillows filled with the finest goose down and covered in the richest silks; their jewel-toned hues of eggplant and sage adding elegance to the simplicity of the table. Beyond this, an arched doorway led to the kitchen area; a short set of stairs there leading up to the sleeping quarters that had been built into the low branches of the massive willow's other half._

_Kurama's eyes saw none of this, however. They were focused solely on the table – its top littered with rolls of pristine white bandages; a bowl of water and used, bloodied cloths; and a few jars of herbal salves and ointments. _

_His sister was a 'touch empath', meaning that she had the ability not only to feel others' emotions through touch, but also to heal through that same touch – the wound transferring from the injured to her own body, which would then heal itself. This type of healing, though, required a great deal of energy and left her weakened for a time. Thus, she never used it except in the most dire of circumstances; preferring instead, to utilize more conventional means for any non-lethal wounds or illnesses._

_Yet, as he continued to look at the table, he did not see the remnants of his sister's work; his mind registered them at the periphery of his field of vision only. Instead, his golden eyes were fixed upon a small piece of rolled parchment, carefully set apart from the other items that adorned the table top, and beyond that, to the figure that lay supine in a pool of its own blood._

_Time seemed to stop as Kurama moved slowly around the table, never taking his eyes from the body on the floor. Pain – the same searing pain he'd felt years ago when Kuronue had forced him to run, leaving the bat demon to die alone – wrapped around his heart as he sank to the floor beside the body of his sister. Reaching out, he closed her sightless eyes. 'Never again', he thought, the pain tightening around his heart, 'will these eyes marvel at the stars'. Leaning over, he gently wrapped his arms around the still form and lifted her. Cradling her in his embrace, he laid his cheek against the silky silver of her head and began to rock her._

"_My Wildflower… My Wildflower… ai shiteru," he whispered over and over as he continued rocking the body he held._

_It had been a slow death. She had, literally, been ripped open – gutted like a fish – the knife entering at her abdomen then pulled upwards to stop just below her heart. She had suffered; whoever had done this to her had made sure of that._

_Through the haze of his pain, Kurama suddenly remembered the small parchment roll sitting on the table. It had not been part of the healing paraphernalia his sister used. Rather, it had been set apart; deliberately placed away from the other items… and it had been done for a reason._

_Carefully laying the body in his arms back onto the floor, cradling the head with one of the pillows, Kurama reached over, snatching the parchment off the table. Opening it, he read the words contained within….._

**To the Youko**_, it said. _**Years ago, you took something precious from me. Now, I return the favor.**

_**:End Flashback:**_

A gentle squeeze of the hands holding mine brings me back from my nightmare, and I look again into the crimson eyes of my love.

"I buried her beneath the willow, on the other side of the house she so loved," I tell him, "then I left, sealing the glade behind me so that no one could find and disturb her resting place. After that, I set out, searching for the one who had taken her life. A month later, and quite by accident, I found him in a tavern, bragging about how easy it had been to trick a kitsune healer and take her life. He even had the sapphire pendant I'd gifted her with on her last birthday." I stop a moment, taking a deep breath. When I continue, it is with ice in my voice.

"I took his life – as slowly and as painfully as he had hers; torturing him until at last, just before his death, he confessed the name of the one who'd hired him to exact revenge upon the legendary Youko Kurama."

My story finally at an end, I again lower my gaze, staring at the small hands; tiny fingers interlaced with my own. Silence pervades the room; each of us busy with our own thoughts. I cannot look at him; cannot bear to see the outrage, the disgust I'm sure he must feel toward me.

Slowly, he extricates one hand from mine. I feel a single finger beneath my chin and then he tips my head up so that our eyes meet. In his, I see nothing but sorrow and his overwhelming love for me.

"What was it, Fox?" Hiei asks softly. "Will you tell me what could possibly have been so precious that it would cause someone to demand such retribution?"

The questions are tentative; almost as if he fears to ask them or, perhaps, it's that he's afraid of what my answer will be. I do not answer him right away, and in that brief moment of silence, his hand leaves my face. Returning it to mine, he again entwines our fingers, giving my hand a gentle squeeze as he does so. I return the caress, my eyes locked on the ruby orbs of my love.

"You've heard of the 'Light of Evermore', haven't you?" I ask, my voice a mere whisper of sound in the quiet of our bedroom.

Widened crimson eyes and a sharp intake of breath assure me that he has. "Sadoku!" He shakes his head, almost in disbelief. "Baka kitsune!" he smirks slightly. "Only **_you_** would be so bold as to challenge **_that_** soul-less tyrant!"

"It was not audacity," I reply, "nor did I mean to challenge him in any way. In fact, I had no desire for the 'Light' at all."

"Then… why?"

"Vanity, Blackfire," I sigh, "nothing more." A small, mirthless smile graces my lips before I hasten on with my explanation. "You know the stories – Sadoku the Cyclops, ruler of the Dark Mountains and lord of the supposedly impregnable, Castle Obsidian."

Castle Obsidian – so named because, in fact, that is exactly what it was. Built into the side of Mount Kurokumo in the Dark Mountain range of the western Makai, it was fashioned entirely from black obsidian. Stories abounded within the Makai of this black jewel… how none had dared to breech its walls, to penetrate that which was thought to be impenetrable – that is until…..

"It was a temptation Youko could not resist… to do that which was thought to be impossible. And so I made my way to the Dark Mountains. For weeks I did nothing but watch… and wait… learning all I could about the castle and its occupants. Finally, after more than two months, I was ready to make my move. I'd discovered a breech, albeit a tiny one, in the western wall – nothing more than a small sewer tunnel, covered by a rusting grate. It was all I needed. I made my way inside, and keeping to the shadows within the castle, found my way to the treasure room."

Here I drop my eyes, fixing them on the hands in mine. I had said that vanity had been the sole reason for what I'd done; yet in reality, there was another reason as well… one for which Youko Kurama was well known, and for which years later, his sister would pay with her life. That reason was nothing more than pure, unmitigated **_greed_**.

"Kurama?" Hiei's quiet baritone rouses me from my thoughts, and I gift him with another sad smile.

"I told you that I hadn't meant to take the 'Light', and I hadn't. I'd only planned to break into the vault, take a few meaningless baubles, leave the usual 'clue' so they'd know who'd been there, and go."

"But you changed your mind?"

Another nod, this one accompanied by a soft sigh. "I was about to leave, when a small cherry wood box, intricately carved, caught my eye. Intrigued, I walked over to the shelf upon which it lay and picked it up. Upon opening it, I saw it contained an exquisitely carved vial of Makai crystal; and contained within that vial, an iridescent flame that burned brighter than any star in the heavens. I knew, of course, immediately what it was. I also knew that I would not leave without it. And so I took it; leaving a rose upon the shelf in its stead."

I raise my face to my lover's, feeling the mist of the tears I will **_not_** shed once more. "It was my greed that murdered her, Hiei," I murmur, shaking my head to rid myself of the wetness in my eyes. "**_I _**killed her… her death is my fault… my fault!"

"No, Fox," he replies, his voice gentle, "it is not. You must stop blaming yourself. **_She_** would not want you to continue to do so." He pauses a moment, looking down at our hands as if to gather his thoughts. "Maybe," he continues, raising his head to look over at me, "that is what these dreams mean. Perhaps it's her way of telling you that you need to let yourself grieve for her death and to remember her, not with guilt and remorse but the joy and love you two once shared."

He gifts me with one of his rare smiles. "After all, wasn't it **_you_** who once told me that there is nothing to be gained by dwelling on the past and that which cannot be changed?" he asks.

"I did," I agree, "and I... I know you're right….."

"But….."

I raise an eyebrow, and he smirks, "don't look at me like that, Fox. I know there's a 'but' in there somewhere."

I can't hide my smile. He is my mate… the other half of my soul; and he knows me – perhaps better than I know myself. Taking my hands from his, I reach out, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him close.

I chuckle as I feel small arms encircle my waist, and a small head rest lightly against my chest.

"You're right, as usual, Blackfire," I concede. "What I was going to say, though, was that I suppose I've always been much more adept at giving advice than taking it."

"Hn… stupid Fox," he mutters affectionately, and I smile, knowing that he **_is _**right… about everything.

Reaching down, I place my fingers beneath his chin, tilting his head up. Leaning down slightly I capture his soft lips in a deep, passionate kiss; the world around us fading away as I lose myself in the wonder that is my love.


	3. Reflection

Chapter 3 – Reflection

_**Standard disclaimer: I don't own YYH or its characters; they are the sole property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shonen Jump Comics Weekly, Studio Pierrot and Fuji Television.)**_

As the notes of the melody faded away, the figure seated at the piano bowed her heard. She was in her late 20s; well, 28 to be exact. Her hair was dark brown, shot through with strands of silver the color of moonbeams, and cut in a fashionably short style that perfectly suited her elfin features. She was dressed simply, but elegantly, for this rehearsal in a pair of faded blue jeans and a tunic-length sweater in amethyst, the color a perfect complement to her sightless, smoky quartz-colored eyes.

Those eyes were closed now, in the ensuing silence of the concert hall. Had it been possible, one would have seen tears slip from beneath long lashes to slide silently down pale, ivory cheeks. But the accident that had taken her eyesight had also damaged her tear ducts, thus, tears were an impossibility.

Mitsunari Kyoshi, renowned concert pianist, remained seated thus a moment longer before she raised her head. Shifting slightly on the bench, she turned to 3 o'clock, sightless eyes seeming to fix on the members of the orchestra arrayed in an arc behind her.

"Arigatou, minna-san." She spoke softly, yet the acoustics of the hall were so nearly perfect that even those occupying the very back row could hear her words clearly.

A small, rather mischievous grin lit her elfin features. "If we play that well this evening," she continued, "mine are likely to be the only dry eyes in the house, ne?"

Quiet laughter rippled through the orchestra, stilling only when the conductor tapped his baton upon the pedestal, gaining everyone's attention once more.

"All right ladies and gentlemen," Tonami Hiroshi said, his eyes roaming over the assemblage, "I believe that's enough for today. I shall see you back here at 7:30 this evening."

A brief rustling throughout the hall was heard as the musicians gathered their sheet music and instruments together; then, as one, they stood. "Tonami-san" they intoned, bowing to the conductor. More rustling, along with the sound of soft voices, echoed as the musicians filed out, leaving the pianist alone with her conductor.

Tonami stepped down from the podium, slowly approaching the young woman seated at the piano. Coming to stand beside her, he reached out, gently laying his hand on her arm so as not to startle her with his approach. "Mitsunari-san," he addressed her, "if you are ready, I can escort you to Rutledge-san."

Tilting her head slightly toward the sound of his voice, Kyoshi responded. "I thank you, Tonami-san, but that isn't necessary." One slender, long-fingered hand reached over, expertly flipping the crystal of the watch adorning the wrist of the other to finger the Braille numbers on the face. "It's 2:45 now, and Jason's to meet me at 3. If it's all the same to you, I'll stay here and practice a little more."

Tonami, thoroughly charmed by not only the young lady herself, but also the slight British accent to her Japanese, could not help the smile that stole across his lips. She was an amazing young woman, even if part-gaijin – the slight rounding of her almond-shaped eyes belying her Occidental heritage. Still, there were few who could compare to her talent….

"Very well. I shall take my leave of you then, and see you again this evening," he replied with a small bow, even though he knew she could not see it.

Kyoshi bowed as well. "Until then."

Kyoshi's POV 

I am left alone, Tonami-san's hurried footsteps having faded just moments ago, leaving me with the piano before me, and my thoughts. It is not often that I reflect upon my life; yet it seems that, since my return to the land of my birth two days ago, I find myself doing so more and more.

Idly my fingers run over the keys; the notes to David Arkenstone's _Legend of the Sea_ long since committed to memory. Just as idly, I listen as I play, my sharp hearing unable to detect a single 'dead' spot within the concert hall – the acoustics, near perfect – and my mind drifting into thoughts of this life I live and from there into the past.

What is it they see when the look at me? I wonder. To the world, I am Mitsunari Kyoshi, renowned concert pianist. A 28 eight year old female of average height and slender build – ordinary in ever sense of the word… human.

But I am not quite what they see. I am different… and yes, I know, that's what everyone says (or would like to think, anyway), but in my case it just happens to be true.

You see, I'm… well, I'm not strictly human… not entirely at any rate. I am, for lack of a better word, a hybrid… a hanyou – **_both_** human and demon. Yes, you heard correctly, I am part demon; though not what humans normally think of when they hear the word. Though my **_body_** is human, my **_soul_** is actually that of a centuries' old fox spirit – a youko… kitsune… whichever term you prefer.

My name, in that **_other_** life; that **_other_** form was Kasumi… Youko Kasumi to be exact.

I suppose, then, the next logical question one might ask is… how could this be? How does one, who is **_demon_**, become human?

A rather lengthy (and somewhat tedious) story to be sure.

I feel a soft, and rather wistful, smile steal across my lips as my thoughts turn to that other life; the life that included a brother – one I loved very much – and still do, though I know not what fate may have befallen him… and who I fear may be dead now, even as I live this new life.

We grew up together – he and I. Truth be told, I raised him from the age of seven (I was ten, three years older than he); our mother having taken off when he was but an infant, and our father… well, let's just say, the less said about that poor excuse for a life, the better.

Kurama… I can see him so clearly, and another smile graces my lips. Tall, elegant in form, with long silver hair that would have been the envy of any Ningen woman and eyes the color of burnished gold. He was my pride and joy – from the time he was no more than a kit in my arms until he grew into the handsome young man he was when circumstances forced us apart.

Kurama… He was kitsune through and through – viewing life as nothing more than some grand game to be played. And play it, he did; eventually becoming the most legendary (and feared) thief in the Makai (the Demon world).

As for me, I was content to remain behind; living in the small tree house we'd built together and using my skills and touch empathy to heal those in need.

During those years – the years of our adulthood – Kurama was very careful not to divulge my identity; visiting only sporadically and **_only_** when he felt it was completely safe to do so. Still, somehow, someone (perhaps seeking revenge for one of his thefts) found out the secret he so carefully guarded, and 28 years ago, our lives were irrevocably changed….

To put it quite simply, I was murdered… left for dead – at least, such was the case for my physical body. My spirit; my **_soul_** if you will, refused to give up. I was youko, after all, and not ready to abandon life so quickly.

Using what remained of my spirit energy, I left my physical body behind; escaping, but not into the Makai. Indeed, I felt it too dangerous for not only myself, but Kurama as well, to remain. And so I fled into the Ningenkai – the **_Human_** world.

Not having the strength to inhabit a human body, I did the next best thing… inhabiting the unborn child of a young woman; my soul merging with the soulless body of the child to become one.

My birth – and life from that point on – has been somewhat unusual.

You see, the young woman in whose unborn child I sought refuge, was the only child of a wealthy and well-known family in Japan. She also, it seems, disgraced said family by falling in love with an American – a young sailor stationed there. When her parents found out, they took the necessary steps to have the young man shipped home. The baby she carried – **_me_** – the product of her illicit liaison was, upon birth, immediately taken from the girl and placed in an orphanage. As for my 'parents', I have no idea whatever became of them, nor have I ever had any desire to discover their fate.

So, here we have 'me' – an orphan less than one day after my birth; unwanted and unloved and un-named.

The nuns, into whose care I was placed, were the ones to name me: gifting me with 'Kyoshi'. Ironic – the bastard half-breed being given a name, which means 'purity'. And the surname, you may wonder… nothing more than the name which graced the plate outside the place where I was to spend my formative years.

And there I did just that – growing up with the knowledge that I was different from the other children; knowing that once I'd reached the age of ten (in Ningen years), my youko powers would return, and I could leave – return to the Makai and search for the brother I still loved (and missed) with all my heart and soul.

Yet it seemed the Fates had other plans for this human/demon hybrid. At the age of ten, just as I was planning to leave the Ningenkai forever, I lost my eyesight.

It happened on one of those glorious summer days. You know the ones… the sky a perfect azure; the sun golden and warm upon your skin. Several of the children had been playing; trying to while away the hours until nightfall and the fireworks display to which we were all to be treated. I had been sitting under my favorite tree, as was my habit whenever we children had free time, reading. One of the group: a boy two years older than I at the time, happened to have a firecracker; though how he'd come by it, no one ever quite figured out. Anyway, attempting to show off to his younger friends, he lit the thing, only to discover that the fuse was shorter than it should have been. It sputtered and sparked, and in a panic, he threw it as far from the other children and himself as he could.

Unfortunately for me, it landed right in the book I held in my hands, exploding in a blinding white light at the exact moment it connected with my book. Several days later, I awoke in a hospital ward, several small burns on my hands and my eyes tightly bandaged. When those bandages were finally removed, I could no longer see the world around me.

And so, with the loss of my sight, came an end to my plans to return to the Makai and my brother. A demon without sight was at great enough risk in the Makai… what chance did a sightless hybrid have? However, the loss of my eyesight awakened something in me… a love for music, which in turn, led to my learning to play the piano. And **_that_** lead me to my surrogate family and a life I'd, heretofore, never dreamed possible for someone like me.

I was 14 the day I met Jason Yoshihiro Rutledge – the half-English, half-Japanese son of a prominent publishing family. Jason (or 'Yoshi' as only **_I_** call him) grew up in wealth and comfort in one of the more staid, yet fashionable, sections of London. We 'met' when his family visited his mother's homeland and consequently, the orphanage she and his father generously sponsored: his aunt being the Reverend Mother in charge of the place.

A performance by the children had been arranged in honor of our benefactors. At that time, I'd been playing for almost four years and had shown, at least according to the nun who was my teacher, an 'unusual aptitude' for the piano (her polite way, I suppose, of saying I had some talent). That night, I played Pachebel's _Canticle_ as well as a piano concerto by Mozart.

I'm still not sure how it all happened, but the next thing I knew, I was being asked if I'd like to study in London, and in no time at all, I was whisked away to the city – now the 'ward' of Mr. and Mrs. Rutledge… the first **_real_** family I'd ever known.

After that, things began to happen far too quickly for me to really comprehend or make sense of them. I found myself, at the age of 18, a concert pianist, slowly earning a reputation worldwide. Yoshi became my manager… my trusted friend… my 'brother' and the **_only_** human with whom I have shared my secret.

And now I find myself, after 14 long years, back in Japan. I'm not sure why I'd avoided playing here for so long or even why I agreed to return. I only know that, once I'd heard of the new concert venue being built, and the name of the one who had designed it, I felt compelled to come back. It was as if, had I not, I would have missed something important… something…..

Shuuichi Minamino… what **_are_** you to me?


	4. Reunion & Reawakening

Chapter 4 – Reunion & Reawakening

_**(Standard disclaimer: I don't own YYH or its characters; they are the sole property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shonen Jump Comics Weekly, Studio Pierrot and Fuji Television)**_

**_A/N: This chapter will 'flip flop' POVs between the characters of Kurama and Kyoshi/Kasumi. Please read and review!_**

* * *

**_Kurama's POV_ **

I pause just off stage to stand and watch as she plays, listening as the beautiful melody washes over me. I am entranced, not only by the music but watching **_her_** as well. She's exquisite: an ethereal presence – one with the music she plays – her graceful movements perfectly in time with the rhythm of the piece. It takes me several moments to recall why it is I am here, and then I do so with a start, my mind reluctantly turning from the music and the player to the reason I am here.

Jason Rutledge, a friend from my university days and now manager to Mitsunari Kyoshi, was to have come to the performance hall at 3 p.m. to escort the renowned pianist back to their hotel. Unfortunately, he'd gotten delayed; waylaid by the numerous reporters who'd shown up for the rehearsal – each of them vying for his attention and the opportunity to, perhaps, learn a little more about the very private Mitsunari-san. Thus, he'd asked if I would come in his stead, explain the situation to her, and bring her to him. I'd readily agreed, of course. The chance to spend a moment or two privately with one whose skill and talent I'd admired for some time now was too great an opportunity to pass up. And so I find myself here, silently watching, and waiting for the song to come to an end…..

* * *

_**Kyoshi's POV**_

I felt him. Even before I felt his physical presence, standing silently in the wings, I felt the aura that surrounded him for he was not masking it at all. (I, on the other hand, out of long habit, had hidden my own so completely that it was, as always, undetectable.) And that unmistakable energy was enough to break my concentration, the harsh note sounding in my ears, though I doubt he was even aware of the mistake. Once upon a lifetime ago, that soothing magenta was a breath of spring air upon a barren winter's landscape.

My thoughts raced; a thousand questions rushing through my brain, yet not one of them mattered. I knew now why I'd felt so compelled to return to Japan… knew now, beyond a shadow of a doubt, just exactly what Minamino Shuuichi was to me… my **_star_**… my **_brother_**.

My fingers stilled upon the keys; the music now finished. Straightening a bit on the bench, I lifted my head but did not turn.

"Hello," I called.

"Forgive me," a soft, gentle tenor replied as quiet footsteps crossed the stage. "I did not mean to disturb your practice."

"It's all right," I assured him. Hearing the footsteps stop, I turned my head slightly, feeling his presence by the piano. "I was finished. Mitsunari Kyoshi," I said with a smile, holding out my hand.

* * *

_**Kurama's POV**_

She smiled – just one corner of her mouth lifting, and yet my heart lurched. That smile… so familiar. For an instant, I cannot breathe as pain lances through me. Quickly I recover myself, hoping that she had not noticed my momentary lapse in courtesy. Reaching out, I grasp her hand in mine, and bowing over it (though I know she cannot see), I respond, "it is an honor, Mitsunari-san. I am Minamino Shuuichi."

Her voice, when she speaks, is as soft and lyrical as the music she had been playing.

"Ah, the young genius architect responsible for this lovely building. It is I who am honored, Minamino-san… and please, call me Kyoshi." The corner of her mouth lifts once more, and this time, I find a strange sort of comfort in her smile. "You are to be congratulated, Minamino-san," she continues, "for the near perfection of the acoustics in this room. Indeed, I have yet to detect a single 'dead' spot within this entire space."

Sightless, smoky quartz eyes seem to meet mine as my face heats up, the blush spreading slowly across my cheeks at her words. "My praise embarrasses you, ne?" she teases as I release her hand.

"Somewhat," I reply, feeling the blush deepen, "though I thank you for your kind words." Again, I bow. "I would be pleased, as well, if you would call me Shuuichi."

"Shuuichi it is then," she acquiesces. "Now tell me, Shuuichi, to what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting? Has my beloved manager been unavoidably delayed… again?"

Startled, I feel the heat rise in my face once more as I am reminded, yet again, of my reason for being here. "Hai," I nod in agreement, "I fear the reporters are being rather persistent…"

"As always," she laughs. "Ah well, it seems Yoshi's **_mis_**fortune has presented me with a rather fortuitous opportunity… one that allows me to get to know you better." She pauses a moment, as if carefully considering what she is about to say. "So tell me, Minamino Shuuichi," she asks with a smile, "what shall we talk about now?"

* * *

_**Kyoshi's POV**_

Funny, after resigning myself to the fact that I had lost my brother, I find him again – in of **_all_** places, the Human World – and of **_all_** things, a human… as I am. Idly, I wonder what he looks like, and for the first time since the accident, I hate the fact that I am blind.

Yet I cannot help the excitement that courses through my veins. Though every fiber of my being is screaming at me to tell him who I am, I know that I cannot. I must be patient – wait until the time is right. And so, with a smile, I 'look' up at him and ask, "So tell me, Minamino Shuuichi, what shall we talk about now?"

Once again, the gentle tenor, so different from the deeper baritone of his youko aspect – and yet, the same – speaks. "That piece… the one you were just playing… it was lovely. Though melancholy, there seems to be an air of hope that pervades the entire piece… an air one cannot help but hear throughout the music."

_You should hear it with the violins and flute_, I think, and then silently thank Inari for the opening my brother has, albeit unknowingly, provided me.

"I'm happy you find it so… kyodai," I reply softly.

* * *

_**Kurama's POV**_

Stunned into silence by the simple utterance of that one word, I can only stand there, gaping unintelligently back at her. Quickly though, my shock turns to anger; Youko's echoing my own. What game is she playing… and why?

Somehow, I find my voice. "Forgive me, Mitsunsari-san," I respond stiffly, my tone icy, "I fear you have mistaken me for someone else. I have no idea why you seem to think I am your brother, nor do I find any amusement in this….."

"I believe it is **_you_** who are mistaken, Minamino-san," she breaks in gently, "and why should I not call you 'brother'? It is, after all, what you are, Hikaru no Hoshi." She pauses a moment, her face lifted to mine and smiles. "Or did you think that, even after all these years, I'd have forgotten my own brother's ki signature… or the faint aroma of sun-kissed roses that is his scent?"

Again I am shocked into silence. There had only been one who'd called me that; one who smiled as she is smiling now.

_No – it can't be… can it! After all these years, is it possible! _

I shake my head then suddenly, Youko's voice echoes in my mind… "**_Yasei no Hana_**"… and I am released from my stupor knowing that it is more than possible, and yet…..

"Wildflower?" I hesitantly question, still not daring to believe.

The smile never leaves her face as she flares her well-masked ki; the familiar sage-tinted warmth of it gently enveloping me, just as it had when I was but a kit.

"Hello Kurama," she greets me now, "it's been awhile, ne?"


	5. Resolution

Chapter 5 – Resolution

_**(Standard disclaimer: I don't own YYH or its characters; they are the sole property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shonen Jump Comics Weekly, Studio Pierrot and Fuji Television)**_

* * *

_They spoke of everything_…..

"How? I… I thought you were… I mean… how did you….?" The normally articulate kitsune suddenly seemed incapable of forming a coherent thought or sentence as wide viridian eyes stared at his sister.

"The same way you did, I should think," was the wry response. "I am a youko, after all."

Suddenly, the soft voice turned serious, though Kurama could hear the underlying sadness in it as well. "I couldn't leave you alone," Kasumi said, head bowed, "not after….." She didn't finish the thought but lifted her head, unseeing eyes looking up at him. "It was the only way… the only way for me to stay alive… and though you'd be alone for awhile, at least I'd be able to return; to be with you again." She tried to smile. "That was the idea, at least," she finished softly, regretfully. "Forgive me, kyodai… I never meant to….."

A gentle finger to her lips stilled her words. "Don't, aneki," he replied, "it doesn't matter. What is important is that **_you_** are here, and **_I _**am here; and we are together once more."

"Even though it took 28 years?" she asked, and Kurama watched as hope suffused the elfin features of her face.

"Yes," he answered. Taking her hand in his, Kurama moved the few feet that separated them and seated himself beside her on the bench. "Will you tell me?" he asked, never letting go of the hand in his.

She nodded and began her story; touching only briefly on how she'd left her dying body behind, sending her spirit into the Ningenkai. She told him of the circumstances of her birth and the orphanage where she'd spent her formative years; of the accident that took her sight at the age of ten and how, because of that, she'd had to abandon her plans to return to the Makai and to him (her voice becoming laced with regret as she did so). She told him of learning to play the piano and how that, in turn, led her to Jason and her surrogate family, "the first **_real _**family I'd known", she said; she told him of her life in London and 'on the road' as she toured; and finally, she told him of the invitation she'd received and the compulsion she'd felt to return to the land of her birth for the first time in 14 years.

"I knew who you were, of course." She smiled. "Well, who 'Shuuichi' was, anyway. And even then, whenever Yoshi would talk about his friend from his university days, I'd often wonder why I felt that you were important to me. And so when Yoshi told me who it was who'd designed the new performing arts center where I'd been invited to play, I knew I had to come back, to find out, finally, just exactly what you meant to me."

When she fell silent, Kurama gently squeezed the hand he held. "Does Jason know… about you… and about me?" he asked quietly.

Kasumi nodded. "He is the only one who does. He knows what I am and that I have a brother, but nothing else. I've never told him about my feelings about his friend, Shuuichi, or even why I had to come back." Once again she smiled. "Guess I'll have to now, won't I? But first, I'd like to hear about your life as a human, kyodai."

"Of course," Kurama smiled, giving her hand another gentle squeeze before he began his own tale.

* * *

"I was careless," he began then paused, as if reconsidering what he'd just said. "No," he continued after a moment, shaking his head, crimson mane rustling softly with the movement. "Not careless… I was **_arrogant_**."

And with those words, Kurama began his own life's story. He told his sister of the day he'd been hunted, mortally wounded and left for dead by the bounty hunter. He described how he'd expended the remainder of his youki, along with one of his tails, to escape his dying body, sending his own spirit to Ningenkai and taking refuge in an unborn child, just as she had done. He told her of his mother, "I cannot wait for her to meet you… she's always wanted a daughter, and now she'll have one," he beamed; of his stepfather and young stepbrother. He told her of his first meeting with Hiei; of the theft of the Reikei artifacts that led to his meeting with the Spirit Detective, Yusuke Urameshi, and his subsequent 'recruitment' as a member of the Spirit Detective's team, as well as the friendships that had developed between himself, Hiei, Yusuke, and Kuwabara as a result. And finally, he told her of the one friendship that had developed into something more… his love for, and mating with, his beloved fire demon.

"He's stubborn; abrasive; hot-tempered; over-protective; caring, tender… and I love him with all of my heart," he finished with a soft smile.

"You're mated?" Kasumi asked.

"Hai," Kurama responded proudly. "Five years now."

Kasumi smiled tenderly at the happiness she heard in his voice. "Well, it seems my little star has grown up," she replied.

"Again," he laughed.

Kurama slipped his hand from hers and rising, he reached down to take both her hands into his own. "Come," he said, gently pulling Kasumi to her feet. "There's something I want to show you.

* * *

….._and they spoke of nothing_…..

The courtyard garden was magnificent; a miniature Garden of Eden. Upon a stone bench amidst the flora and leafy green foliage, brother and sister sat together. Neither spoke – afraid that by doing so, they'd suddenly wake to find it had all been a dream… an illusion.

It was Kasumi who moved first. Slipping her arm beneath Kurama's, she reached down to clasp his hand in hers. Leaning into the slender body next to hers, she rested her head against his shoulder.

Kurama smiled softly at the contact. Tilting his head, he rested his cheek on the top of his sister's head. Turning his head slightly, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

They were still sitting this way when hurried footsteps were heard entering the garden. Kurama raised his head just as a voice called out.

"**_Here_** you are!" The owner of that voice exclaimed, sounding both frightened and somewhat angry. "I've been looking all over this damned building for you, Kyo, and **_where_** do I… find... you?" the voice sputtered. It paused just a moment, then spit out, "What the **_HELL_** is going on here?"

Jason Yoshihiro Rutledge gaped (there was no other word for it!) at the sight that met his deep blue eyes; his mouth dropping open. Lifting his head, Kurama returned Jason's gaze as his sister straightened. Lifting her head from his shoulder, she turned toward the spot where Jason stood, his breath coming in smothered gasps as he fought to regain his composure; eyes still fixed upon the two before him.

Giving her friend and manager a dazzling smile, Kasumi spoke. "Yoshi, there's something I have to tell you."

_**Owari**_

* * *

**_A/N: It's done. I hope you've enjoyed 'meeting' Kurama's sister. Rest assured, this is not the last appearance she will make._**

**_And please, be kind and leave a review. The muse adores them!_**


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